Proverbs 25.6-7; Hebrews 13.1-8, 15-16; Luke 14.1, 7-14

A family was entertaining the vicar and his wife for Sunday lunch after church on a hot, blistering day. When all were seated, the man of the house turned to six-year-old Ben and asked him to say grace.

“But, Daddy, I don’t know what to say,” Ben protested.

“Oh, just say what you’ve heard me say,” the mother chimed in.

Obediently Ben bowed his little head and said, “O Lord, why did I invite these people here on a hot day like this?!”

This hospitality thing is not always easy. But it is important.

If we look at this morning’s readings, we see various bits of advice about both giving and receiving hospitality. Why is it so important? Why did Jesus give it such a high priority?

It’s because hospitality is one way of showing our love for others. The Greek word in the Hebrews reading translated “to show hospitality” (AV – “to entertain strangers”) is philoxenia – the love of strangers. At the heart of all of Jesus’s teachings was the idea of loving the other, particularly those who were vulnerable in some way.

A stranger is always vulnerable. A stranger is someone who does not yet belong to the community, whether that community is the church, a sports club, a school or a place of employment.

We can also widen the definition to include people who are not strangers but who are not part of our community – people we entertain in our homes are not usually strangers to us, but nor are they always part of the family. True hospitality makes outsiders part of the community. We can help people to feel part of the family, even though they are not genetically related to us.

And, of course, we need to keep in mind that Jesus redefined family and what it means. He made the point that family is more than our genetic brothers and mothers and sisters? In Mark chapter three, we read: “Jesus said: ‘Who are my mother and my brothers?’ And looking at those who sat around him, he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.’

Hospitality is a true Christian gift. It’s a gift we can offer to those outside the church. I would go as far as to say it’s a gift we should offer to those outside the church.

A group of women went to a Benedictine monastery on a retreat. On the first day they met the abbot to learn something about monastic life. During his presentation one of the women asked, “What exactly do you all do here?”

Without hesitating the abbot replied: “We pray five times a day and we practise hospitality.”

Puzzled the woman responded, “But what is it that you actually do?”

Again the abbot responded, “We pray five times a day and we practise hospitality.”

The woman was still not satisfied, so she pressed him further: “OK, but what do you do with the rest of your time?”

Calmly the abbot looked her in the eye and said: “We pray and we practise hospitality.”

Finally the truth began to sink in. This was what this community felt called by God to be about and this was more than enough to keep them busy. Hospitality is a true gift and a ministry.

Some will find it easier and more natural than others to be hospitable. But since it is a way of showing Christian love, it’s something that we must take seriously. And I don’t mean just hospitality in our homes, but also in our churches. We may even end up entertaining angels without knowing it.

Hospitality is about showing love to everyone, not just those who will return the invitation. Jesus suggested to the man who was offering him hospitality in our Gospel reading today that he should in future invite those who were unable to invite him back.

Hospitality is about giving something without seeking a return. It’s about giving of your food and drink, but also about giving of yourself.

When we invite someone into our homes, we don’t take them into the dining-room, shove a plate and a glass in front of them, and leave them to it. We welcome them in, guide them to a seat, sit with them, eat with them, spend time with them, share our thoughts, listen to them, ensure that they are happy and do whatever is needed to help them be part of our home, and so on. It’s less about a set table than an open house and heart.

We can offer hospitality even when we’re not expecting to do so. I’ve had meals that have been cobbled together because I’ve turned up unexpectedly at someone’s house that have been far more joyful and welcoming than meals I’ve had where the host has spent hours preparing, because true hospitality is not about making the most elaborate meal we can but about an openness of attitude and loving, warm welcome.

Sadly often in our churches we are far less hospitable than in our homes. We might greet people at the door, but then so often we leave them to find their own seat, to sit alone, to struggle their way around a prayer book or service book, and assume that they’ll stay for coffee at the end, even if we haven’t specifically invited them to do so.

I’ve been in churches where I’ve been the stranger where no one has talked to me, where I’ve made the effort to stay for coffee after a service, and still no one has said anything to me. True hospitality is not just about saying hello at the door; it’s about continuing to be attentive to the outsider’s needs.

I don’t need help to find my way around a service, but many people do. I think so often those of us who have been long-standing members of the church forget what it’s like to be a beginner. The routines and prayers and services that we know so well can be a mystery for those who are not used to them.

It’s one area in which our small church communities have a distinct advantage. It doesn’t take much for us to work out who the stranger in our midst is – they become fairly obvious just by being there. It’s something very large churches can struggle with which is why they often encourage people to form home groups so that they are also part of a smaller community within the bigger picture. I’ve read of people who have attended large churches for years, being approached by others asking: “Are you new here?”

Small churches are often looked down on as unsuccessful by people in big churches. Having a small congregation, of course, brings challenges, but in the area of hospitality, we have a real advantage.

In the ancient world, hospitality was different from today. People travelling around didn’t have the many hotels or B&Bs that we have today. On the whole they didn’t travel for leisure purposes but for work or for other purposes such as census-taking, as we see with Mary and Joseph making their way to Bethlehem before Jesus was born.

There were inns – the story of the Good Samaritan tells us that – but people often found hospitality in strangers’ homes. When Jesus sent out the 70 disciples, he commanded them to stay in places where hospitality was offered, but to move on where it wasn’t. There was an expectation that those disciples would find some kind of hospitality.

True hospitality is a reflection of God’s love for us. It’s has an attitude of acceptance and welcome and openness. It doesn’t discriminate between those we want to entertain and those whom we don’t.

I’m sure we’ve all had our own experiences of joyful times where we received true hospitality and been made to feel very much at home; I suspect we’ve also had painful experiences of feeling like the outsider. If we hold those in mind when we offer hospitality and aim to make others feel joyful and not excluded, we will probably get it right.

God’s love is offered to all. Hebrews tells us that we might be entertaining angels. In Mathew 25, the parable of the sheep and the goats, Jesus implies that what we do for the hungry, thirsty and stranger, we are doing also for him.

And we must not forget that the outsider brings with them the gift of themselves. Hospitality is not only about knowing how to offer a welcome, it’s also about knowing how to receive one. Jesus started off today’s reading, perhaps with the verse from Proverbs in his mind, that receiving hospitality is not about taking the best place for ourselves but about being humble.

In God’s kingdom, those who are lowly will be raised; those who think too highly of themselves will not.

I had some sympathy with the rector of Chatteris who a few years ago got into the papers because he refused to set aside special seats for the members of the town council who were attending a service. It wasn’t perhaps the best move for community-church relationships, and maybe his approach lacked some tact, but he was trying to make the point that before God we are all equal.

The Bible is full of injunctions to welcome the stranger, the alien, the foreigner. At heart, hospitality is about sharing the love of God with all, and recognising that all are worthy of honour and respect, because all are God’s children. Let us reflect that in our homes, places of work and in our churches.